It's that fucking Ashanti. Seriously. I can't go anywhere without hearing "What's Love" or that other song or the five other ones on the radio.
Hi, it's called overexposure. Look into it.
I went shopping yesterday at Northgate. Sometimes when I'm shopping at regular stores I forget that I'm not at the Gap outlet and therefore cannot purchase every little thing that I want. So I accidentally spent a little too much on clothes. And I somehow managed to spend more money on underwear than on shorts. How does that happen??
So why is it impossible for me to find a pair of shorts that doesn't have something written on the ass? I refuse to walk around with "Hot Stuff" or "I love your boyfriend" on my bootie. It's just strange.
I bought a Cinnabon yesterday. I searched the entire mall for this place, as I had heard rumors that it was there. Took me 25 minutes to find it.
Shut up.
So last night was Ladies' night again at Jillian's. So I'm all set for a while - I don't need to go clubbing again for at least another month. Well, except of course to the gay bars, since I don't need to worry about some drunken frat types stealing my friends away there.
There were some fantastic mullet specimens in attendance as well. Hooray for that! One exceptional hombre was bouncing all about wearing some cow skin boots. Yup. Nothing like a night out in Covington to make you realize that you miss Lexington and all of your non-crack whore friends.
Also, I'm feeling like a troll. Why on earth is it impossible for anyone to want to dance with me who isn't a member of the over-40 crowd?
Mom and I went to get the oil changed in our cars yesterday and on the way down the street she insisted that we stop at a garage sale, as she had seen a giant hot pink couch that she was dying to buy for my new apartment. Does this look like Trading Spaces to you? Sorry, I love Hildie and all, but a hot pink couch? Have you people all lost your damn minds??
Matt, you'll appreciate this...they have posted about three signs proclaiming that the speed limit on this road is 25 mph. They were NOT here the last time we were here! Hahaha! I'm thinking that a rather irate mother with 40 children must've called the city people and informed them of the crazy boy in the black car trying to run over her offspring.
I'm so glad that my posse has returned from Cancun! Now the fun can resume in the "Love Shack." Haha. Love shack. Maybe for Becky and Shelly. For me it will still remain "the apartment that sex forgot."
I'm out.
My apologies and a farewell??? - 2005-10-20
It should be Friday somewhere. - 2005-10-03
It's Friday again! - 2005-10-01
Amendment to previous entry... - 2005-09-26
Longer than I intended. It's to tide you over for another week. - 2005-09-23